


I do

by Yukio



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-06
Updated: 2013-02-06
Packaged: 2017-11-28 10:27:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/673370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yukio/pseuds/Yukio
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam and Dean are in ongoing relationship, enjoying all the little things the incestuous love brings. One day Sam suddenly comes up with an idea to marry his brother. At first, Dean's not very enthusiastic about the plan, but then he agrees. <br/>Contains two more stories: "Soulmates" about the crucial moment when Dean changed his mind about Sam's idea, and "The Pleasures of Sex Life" about what happened after the wedding.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I do

**Author's Note:**

> One day, thinking about the Winchesters, I started wondering how would it look like if Sam had the crazy idea to marry his brother. I wanted to write crack, but me being me, I put some angst into it as well.   
> The story was a gift for my precious girlfriend, who gave me the permission to upload it and share it with you guys, so I hope you would enjoy it at least half as much as she does ^^

It had been almost two years since Sam and Dean started sharing one bed during their hunts. It had been more than a year since Dean finally agreed to take a room with a king-size bed instead of two queens.  

“We’re sleeping together, anyway,” Sam had reasoned after Dean’s resolute ‘no’ when he had brought the thing up.

“I don’t see a reason why we should take a king instead of queens,” Dean had said, trying for a conversational tone, but Sam had already known him too well to notice the tension in his posture.

“Dean,” he had addressed him as usual when he didn’t agree and was about to tell his brother why his idea was so awesome.

Dean had rolled his eyes, knowing his little brother as well as Sam knew him. “What?”

Sam had rethought his next words. “I just… Why not?” he had said in the end. “We never touch the other bed, and it would be more comfortable if we…”

“We can start sleeping in separate beds again if that’s what you miss,” Dean had interrupted him sharply.

Sam had sighed. “You know that’s not what I said.”

“Right,” Dean had growled, frowning at Sam.

“Dean…”

“Enough.”

“But, Dean…”

“I said enough, Sam.”

“What are you afraid of?” Sam had asked in a low voice, giving Dean a disappointed look of a kicked puppy. He could interpret the frown that followed into something like ‘If you don’t stop, I’ll strangle you in your sleep’ easily.

Next time Dean had rented a room with a king-size bed.

“Satisfied, you big girl?” he had asked, and when Sam gave him a broad smile, he rolled his eyes, pretending he was looking for something in his duffel bag, but Sam had noticed the slight flush in Dean’s cheeks.

Dean had never put his feelings into words. Not once Sam had heard the L-word from him… but he didn’t need to. Dean’s actions talked clearly. Dean was Sam’s and Sam was Dean’s, and that was all that mattered.

That night they hadn’t slept much. When Sam had been falling asleep in a beautiful contrast with the first rays of the July sun, tired and sated, cuddled up to his big brother, the room smelled with sweat and sex, and not even an inch of the king-size bed had remained untouched by their presence. Dean had wrapped his arm around his brother, not far from falling asleep himself, but still awake enough to press a kiss into Sam’s hair.

“Sammy… you girl,” he had whispered, and that was the last thing Sam heard before sleep claimed him.

All that happened almost a year ago. Sam remembered that bitter-sweet feeling as he was lying in another king-size bed in another motel room, cuddled up to his big brother, who was still catching his breath after the last orgasm.

“Good?” Sam asked with a content grin.

“Not bad,” Dean said with an indifferent shrug, but the fast breathing and the sweat on his forehead was telling a different story.

Sam chuckled. “Of course.”

“Your big paws and big mouth make up for your lack of skills.”

Sam would have felt offended if there wasn’t that roguish sparkle in Dean’s eyes and mischievous smile playing on his lips.

“Good thing that you love me despite the lack of this kind of skill,” he said teasingly.

Dean didn’t answer. His smile became gentler, and he kissed Sam. “Go to sleep, Cinderella,” he said after the kiss was over, and Sam settled comfortably against Dean’s body and closed his eyes, feeling Dean wrap his arm around him.

In a few days they were hunting a vengeful spirit in Las Vegas. The priests who married same-sex couples were being killed. It was just a routine salt-and-burn, and in a few days Sam was watching a freshly married gay couple leaving a chapel as the brothers were passing by in the Impala. The guys kissed, and hand in hand they headed for one of the many hotels.

“We saved their night,” Dean said with a grin and patted Sam’s knee. Sam only nodded, but then he looked at his brother, a question slowly leaving his mouth:

“Dean… what if we…” he glanced at the chapel before he turned to Dean again. “What if we did that, too?”

Dean glanced at Sam and grinned again. “Good joke, Sammy.”

Sam wriggled in his seat, giving no reply. Dean looked at him, confusion in his face.

“You’re not joking,” he said and his face hardened in a second. Sam waited for Dean to say more, but his brother stayed quite, watching the road in front of them.

“You don’t like it,” he stated, disappointment too obvious in his voice.

“No, I don’t. We’re brothers, Sam.”

“We’re brothers who fuck together,” Sam said stubbornly and looked out from the window.

Dean glanced at him, and if Sam had been looking at his brother, he would have noticed the flash of anger in Dean’s eyes, but when he spoke, the tone of his voice was calm.

“We can’t get married even if we wanted to. We would have to change our names, and really, Sam, do you think such a marriage would be valid?”

Sam shrugged. He knew Dean was right, but he still couldn’t hide his disappointment.

Dean sighed. “Sam… Why the hell is it so important to you? Is it the paper? Or the rings?”

“It’s a bond, Dean,” Sam turned to him finally.

Dean’s sarcastic smile kind of hurt him.

“Come on, Sam. You still believe in the sanctity of marriage even in the times of high divorce rate?”

Sam sighed and shook his head. “It’s about what people feel for each other. They want to belong to each other, to walk the same path, to build their common future…”

“You’re such a sap. You can do all of that without getting married.”

“You don’t get it. Marriage is a bond.”

“You’ve already said that.”

“You can’t just walk away from marriage.”

Dean glanced at Sam. “That’s what this is about? Are you afraid I could walk away?”

Sam looked at the road winding in front of them. “No.”

“So what’s the problem?”

“Nothing,” Sam said grumpily and turned on the radio. Dean glanced at him again, but didn’t try to carry on with the conversation.

When they stopped in a motel far away from Las Vegas, they both were silent and went to sleep soon. During the next few days they both were acting the same way as usual, but the issue was still hanging in the air. Sam’s disappointment was perceptible, and whenever Dean met Sam’s puppy eyes, he knew exactly what his moronic little brother was thinking about. Sam never said anything, he understood Dean’s point of view, he knew Dean was right… and just for that particular reason he regretted they were brothers for the first time in his life.

A month had passed and they found a new job. People started missing in a small town in Colorado. After Sam got poisoned by a manticore, and then he spent several hours in agony, dying slowly, while Dean was frantically looking for an antidote, the only thing he was able to think of was that he didn’t want to die because he didn’t want to be without Dean. When he finally recovered after Dean dosed him with home-made antidote, the only important thing for Sam was that they beat Death. Again. When he was lying in Dean’s arms in the evening in a motel room, he was thankful for the heartbeat in his and Dean’s chest.    

While Sam was recovering from the poisoning, which included a lot of sleep and growing appetite, Dean started acting weird. Mostly when Sam woke up, he found out he was alone in the room. At first he thought that Dean was getting something to eat, but then there were times when Dean didn’t bring anything, and instead of giving Sam a satisfying answer where he had been, he was evasive and suspiciously secretive.

Once, when Dean said he was going to bring coffee and it took him a way too long, Sam looked out the window and saw Dean outside talking to Castiel. Even though their conversation seemed to be serious, Dean looked oddly self-conscious. It was something Sam hadn’t seen before – definitely not when Dean was talking to the angel. Obviously they got to some agreement judging from Castiel’s nod before the angel disappeared. Dean sighed and looked at the sky, then shook his head as though he wanted to tell himself that whatever they had been talking about was just stupid, and then he walked back to the motel room. Sam quickly moved away from the window.

Dean stepped in and smiled at his younger brother, but Sam noticed his smile lacked the genuineness he knew. Dean was hiding something.

“Coffee?” he asked and looked quizzically at Dean’s empty hands. Dean’s eyes widened for an instant, but then he shrugged.

“The vending machine was broken.” That was an obvious lie.

“What did take you so long, then?” Sam asked.

Dean rolled his eyes. “Sammy.”  

“You’ve been acting weird lately,” Sam said matter-of-factly, waiting for Dean’s answer.

Dean’s face hardened. “No idea what you’re talking about,” he said and glanced at the table where an unfinished donut was lying on paper. “You didn’t eat,” he changed the topic.

Sam sighed. “You know how I hate junk food diets.”

Dean glanced at Sam. “Hey, I’ve been taking care of you the best I could.”

“You’ve been feeding me with junk for more than a week,” Sam said, but there was no reproach in his voice. Dean was doing his best, he knew that, and junk food was a normal way of eating for both of them, but Sam still preferred normal food if he could afford it. They had been in one place for almost two weeks now, and Sam had _hoped_ that Dean would bring him salad at least. He got a donut instead…

Dean frowned. “No one forced you to eat it.”

“If I hadn’t, I would’ve starved to death,” Sam said, and then he smiled. “Did I thank you for taking care of me?” he asked innocently.

“No. You were busy with sleeping and eating junk food,” Dean said and shrugged, coming up to the table and taking the donut, biting in it.

“Hey, that’s mine!” Sam cried.

Dean smirked. “You didn’t want it,” he said with his mouth full.

“I want it now.” Sam was standing by Dean’s side, trying to look scary.

Dean grinned and bit into the donut again.

Sam frowned. “Jerk.”

“Bitch,” Dean said back and plugged Sam’s mouth with the rest of the donut.

Next morning Sam woke up to the movement next to him, and when he forced himself to open one eye, he could see Dean leaving the bed and looking for his jeans somewhere on the floor.  

“Dean?” Sam muttered into his pillow when his brother pulled on a thin linen jacket. “Where are you going?”

“Sleep, dumbass, I’ll be right back.”

Sam sighed into the sheets. “Say hello to Castiel from me,” he said and noticed Dean stiffen in the doorway. “And bring breakfast!”

“Bitch,” he heard, but didn’t bother to answer as he fell asleep again.

When he woke up later, Dean was already back. He was frowning at something that was lying on the table in front of him. He turned toward the bed as he heard Sam moving.

“Get dressed and come to eat,” he said in that commanding tone of an older brother.

Sam obeyed without saying a word. Dean looked pissed and pissing him off some more was never a good thing. When he sat down at the table, Dean pushed a paper package in front of him.

“Eat.”

Sam noticed he was hiding something under his other hand.

“What do you have there?” he asked curiously.

“ _Eat_ ,” Dean repeated firmly, but then his voice softened. “You’ll find out soon,” he promised.

Sam nodded and reached into the package, expecting a burger or something similar. Instead of that he found out there were several slices of fresh bread, a piece of butter, cheese, and two tomatoes.

“There is milk and cereals as well if that’s what you’d prefer more,” Dean said with an indifferent shrug.

Sam gave him a broad smile. “Jerk,” he said, grinning.

Dean rolled his eyes. “Bitch.”

He waited until Sam was done with his breakfast until he was willing to reveal what he was hiding under his hand.

“Here,” he pushed a small box coated with black satin in front of Sam. “Open it.”

Sam gave Dean a puzzled look before he opened the box. Two golden rings were sitting there on a new layer of black satin, perfectly smooth and of the simplest design.

Sam blinked with confusion. “They are…”

“Wedding rings, yeah,” Dean said with a growl, and Sam noticed the pinkish shade in his cheeks.

“But… why? You said…”

“I know what I said,” Dean interrupted Sam sharply, but then he sighed. “I hate you for this, you know that? You most likely don’t survive until the next day, because I’m gonna kill you, dude, but the few hours I can see your sappy grin is worth the awkwardness of what I’m gonna say and do today.”

Sam raised his eyes from the rings, watching is brother intently. Dean wriggled restlessly. Talking wasn’t his strong point, and he was obviously suffering.

“Well… um… let’s say I changed my mind.”

“Just so, right?” Sam said, reaching for Dean’s hand. “What’s up, Dean?”

Dean didn’t pull his hand away. He watched Sam’s fingers stroking lightly his skin. “Girl,” he said instead and looked at the rings. “When you were dying and I couldn’t find the stupid antidote, I remembered your idiotic words about the bond. I still think marriage is something people came up with because they wanted to inherit and there’s nothing romantic about it, but you seemed to really believe the crap you were talking about. I don’t believe in marriage, Sammy, but I want to.” He shrugged and pulled his hand away. Sam was still quiet, waiting for Dean to continue.

“I talked to Castiel,” Dean said after a while. “According to him, marriage is a deliberate commitment of two souls to each other. The souls are bound together, but the strength of the bond depends on how hard they are willing to work on it. The stronger the bond is, the more powerful the souls are. They can even reach the level on which even Death is powerless. The problem of people today is that they don’t want to work on their bond. They are too lazy for that…“ Dean fell silent for a moment and scratched in his hair nervously. Sam didn’t interrupt him. If he had, Dean would never have finished his speech.

“Well…” Dean continued after a while of awkward silence. “The point is… when you were dying and I couldn’t find the fucking antidote, I was praying for anything that would help me to save you…”

Sam didn’t know whether Dean wanted him to say something or stay quiet. He looked at the box with the rings in front of him. The gold was glistening in the sunshine penetrating inside through the window.

“Sam,” Dean addressed him in a soft, but serious tone. Sam raised his head to look at his brother.

“Are we gonna change our names and find a chapel?” he blurted and felt ashamed for that subsequently.

Dean rolled his eyes. “I’m really not bothering with finding some cutesy chapel with a gay priest if this room and one angel could do the same job. Castiel’s here in a minute if you…” Dean looked nervous again as his eyes met Sam’s, “… if you still believe that crap you said before.”

“I do,” Sam said stubbornly.

Dean nodded. “Good. Because there’s something you should know… Cas!”

Before Sam had a chance to ask what Dean was talking about, the angel appeared. He glanced at the box with the rings, then he looked at Sam and then at Dean.

“I need you to tell Sam what you told me when you helped me to mix the antidote,” Dean said.

“What is this supposed to mean?” Sam asked, confusion written in his face. He looked at the angel. “Cas?”

Castiel was looking at Dean for some time until he finally turned to Sam.

“Man’s soul is a powerful thing,” he started. “It’s a pure substance. It can heal as well as it can kill if you know how to use it. When two souls are bound together, especially by their own free will, the power is doubled. However, one soul can’t use the power of the other. Their true power depends on their mutual efforts to achieve the same goal.”

Sam frowned. “Same goal?”

“Working on the bond, Sammy,” Dean said and stood up to get a drink. “The stronger the relationship is, the more powerful the souls are.”

“Exactly,” Castiel said. “The problem is that people are lazy to invest their energy into developing the bond. If they did, they would be able to anticipate when their loved ones are in trouble and to help them before it’s too late.”  

“So…” Sam started hesitantly, glancing at Dean. “If I understand it right, Dean and I…”

“Dean and you are a completely different case,” Castiel interrupted him. “You two are soulmates.”

Sam gave Castiel a puzzled look. “Soulmates?”

“One powerful soul divided into two bodies,” the angel explained.

Sam was really trying hard to understand, but the thing was he didn’t. He turned to Dean, but his brother preferred another shot of Scotch to explaining anything.

“What does it mean?” Sam looked back at Castiel.

“It means one body is not strong enough to sustain so much power.”

“Such a soul is like a nuclear reactor,” Dean finally stepped into the conversation. “If you’re not careful, it’ll explode.”

Castiel gave Dean a sideways look. “Almost,” he said. “The problem is that such a soul can cause damage with catastrophic consequences. That is why it is born in two separate bodies connected with blood relation, which means siblings share such a soul.”  

Sam met Dean’s eye. The tension in Dean’s shoulders was too obvious, and Sam couldn’t say he was calm himself. Was it possible that he and Dean were one soul? Was that the explanation of their passion for each other? He turned to Castiel with a question on his lips:

“Shouldn’t such a soul be born in the bodies of twins?”

“Sometimes it is, but usually it is not. Bodies have to be strong enough to be able to carry the parts, and since twins have to share the tiny space in their mother’s womb, their development is limited by the needs of the twin’s body. If a twin is a bearer of a part of such a soul, his or her soulmate is usually older or younger sibling of the twins. I don’t think I need to mention that the other twin usually dies after it is born or suffers a serious damage. The problem is that a single part of such a soul is generally more powerful than a common soul occupying just one body. The power gives the parts the ability to live separately, and the blood bond keeps the soul whole.”

“You say the blood relation is important, right?” Sam said, disbelief seeping from his voice.

“Yes,” Castiel agreed.

“How come the parts of the soul aren’t born in the same time, then? I mean… I get the bodies have to be strong enough to carry them, but if one part of a soul is born and the other is only coming…”

“Let me ask you this, Sam. How did you feel during the four months when Dean was in Hell? I’m not asking about your grief now.”

Sam swallowed, noticing Dean’s knuckles go white around the glass he was holding.

“I… was empty,” he admitted quietly, avoiding Dean’s stare.

“Exactly,” Castiel said. “You were dying, Sam. Slowly, but you were.”

A loud clang echoed as Dean stood the glass on a counter and poured another shot of Scotch into it, drinking it down immediately.

“You never told me this, Cas.”

“You never asked.”

“How the hell could I ask about something which I had no idea about?”

“Guys, please.” Sam gave Dean a warning look. “Cas, continue.”

The angel didn’t seem to feel offended. His attention moved back to Sam again.

“One part of soul can’t live without the other, but the power that each part possesses causes that the parts die slowly. Older siblings are dying from their first day until the other part of the soul is born. The power of the parts enables them to live almost ten years without their counterpart.”

Ten years. Ten years without Dean seemed like eternity. Four months had been enough for Sam to start thinking about a bullet in his head. He was sure he wouldn’t have lasted more than a year, the torture of loss was too great, and with time it was just getting worse and worse. Now he understood why.

 “Dean,” he addressed him in a low voice. Dean’s eyes met Sam’s and they were staring at each other in a silent understanding.

“What happens when the other part dies, too?” Sam asked, and his eyes were still trained on his older brother.

“The part that dies later follows the one that died first and unites with it into one soul.”

Sam gulped, watching Dean’s hardening face.

“That means,” he started, “that if you hadn’t brought Dean back…”

“… you would have died and joined Dean in Hell, yes,” the angel finished.

“Can we skip back to the marriage thing?” Dean said, and Sam knew his brother was trying to hide the upset tone, but he terribly failed. There was no blush in his cheeks as Sam would have expected.

“Of course,” Castiel said in that dry tone of his as though he was just talking about some general stuff that didn’t really interest anyone. “As I said before, marriage is a bond…”

“What does marriage mean for soulmates?” Dean interrupted him impatiently.

“It creates a channel between the parts of the soul, and therefore it’s easy for the soulmates to use the power of each other. The problem is that each time the soulmates do that, a small piece of the other part is sucked into the other body and if they are not careful, one of the parts can get too powerful for its body and you already know that it means destruction.”

“Get to the point, Cas.” Dean crossed his arms on his chest. 

The angel looked at the golden wedding bands in the small box. “There is a way to prevent the pieces from being sucked into the other body once the channel is open. It’s a spell.”

Dean finally decided to abandon the bottle with the Scotch and walked back to the table. He reached into the box and pulled out one of the rings.

“It’s a spell carved into gold,” he said, studying the smooth surface.

Sam watched him for a moment before he turned to Castiel. “Is it a binding spell?”

“You can call it like that.” The angel took the ring from Dean, hiding it in his palm. When he showed it to the brothers again, there were sigils decorating the inner side of the ring. He handed the ring back to Dean. “The spell works like grounding when you use each other’s power.”

“Why would we do that?”

Castiel glanced at Dean, who sat down at the table and reached for Sam’s hand. “Because we wouldn’t want to feel as helpless as I did when I couldn’t find the antidote after you got stung by that fucking maticore. If there had been the channel Castiel’s been talking about, I coulda saved you just by reaching for our powers, combined them and used them to heal you.”

Sam felt a gentle squeeze of Dean’s hand.

“What you feel, Sam, is not a coincidence,” Castiel said, but Sam didn’t bother to raise his head and look at the angel when Dean’s beautiful eyes were fixed on him, and his brother was smiling.

“Most people don’t handle it well when they find out they feel attracted to their siblings. But we were already fucked up pretty much, weren’t we?” Dean said as his fingers tangled with Sam’s.

“We handled it our own way,” Sam said with a grin.

“It’s more like we gave in,” Dean replied, showing his little brother the ring he was holding in his other hand. “Do you still wanna marry me, Sammy?”

Sam looked at Castiel quizzically.

“It’s safe unless you take off the rings while using your powers,” the angel said.

“Do we know how to use them?” Sam asked cautiously.

“You will when desperation forces you to do that.” 

“I hope we’ll never feel so desperate…”

“The two of us?” Dean said and laughed. “Keep dreaming.” He stroked Sam’s hand with his thumb. “Now give me your answer, bitch.”

Sam laughed, too. “The answer is ‘I do’, jerk.”

They grinned at each other before Dean let go of Sam’s hand. “Good,” he said quietly and looked at Cas expectantly. The angel took the other ring, and after the spell appeared on its inner side, he handed it to Sam.

“Well then,” Castiel said, and the shadow of his invisible wings appeared on the walls. “Can we start?”

“What? Here?” Sam said, and maybe he sounded a little bit disappointed.

Dean looked around the motel room. “Why not?”

“It’s… not really… a romantic place…” Sam said with an apologetic expression.

Dean rolled his eyes and sighed. “Grow up, Sam.”

Sam shrugged, trying to look as indifferent as he could, but he still couldn’t shake off the touch of disappointment when he looked around the small motel room that was effectively killing the feeling of solemnity. He gave Dean a quick smile. “Let’s get married,” he said and stood up from the table, clasping the ring in his hand.

Dean gave a long sigh and looked at Castiel. In the next moment Sam felt the angel’s touch on his shoulder and hard stone floor under his feet.

He looked around.

It was an old church, rather small and obviously abandoned. The rays of the sun penetrating inside through the window mosaics colored the white walls. The ancient altar was decorated with tiny figures of saints and angels.

“Where are we?” Sam asked.

Dean smiled. “You can’t remember, you were little, but Dad took us here once. It’s the church where he and Mom got married.”

Sam’s eyes widened, and he looked around, astonished. “You must be kidding me! Here?”

“Yup,” Dean said and kicked one of the benches lightly.

“Dean!” Sam was beaming like the morning sun.

“Girl…” Dean rolled his eyes before he came up to Sam and grabbed his hand, pulling him to the altar. “Cas?”

The angel stood behind the altar, the shadow of his wings was spread over the pictures and sculptures behind his back. Dean let go of Sam’s hand and put the golden wedding band on the altar. Sam did the same. Dean took a deep breath, this wasn’t easy for him. _Well,_ Sam thought, _who normally marries their own brother?_  

Dean glanced at Sam.

“You do realize that we won’t be brothers anymore, don’t you?” he asked. “We’ll be…”

“Husbands, I get it, Dean,” Sam said and smiled.

Dean nodded. He turned to Castiel. “I think we can start.”

If Sam had felt the lack of solemnity in the motel room, he was painfully forced to realize that even the sacred grounds of the church couldn’t do the job if there were two assholes doing anything possible to ruin it, even though in Castiel’s case Sam could hardly talk about purpose. He gave up and decided to go with the flow.

“Even though there are soulmates in the world who managed to recognize their other half, you two are the first ones who’ve brought it this far.”

“Hopefully, neither of us explodes with too much power… so soon,” Dean said and grinned at Sam while Sam started questioning his idea to marry his brother. Because Dean? He was a dick.

“By the way, I remember saying something about killing you when this is over,” Dean continued just to confirm his little brother’s opinion of him.

“Are you gonna suffocate me with a pillow in sleep?” Sam asked innocently.

“Not cruel enough,” Dean said and he reached for one of the rings lying on the altar. “I want you to suffer.”

“Anything to please you,” said Sam dryly, still unable to believe that he was getting married to a total moron with a remarkable talent for turning his own wedding into a farce, but Dean took his brother’s left hand to slip the band on Sam’s ring finger, and he did it with so much love and care that Sam’s heart started pounding faster and nothing else existed anymore, just he and Dean.

“Sammy,” Dean said in a husky voice, so gentle and so sexy that Sam almost regretted thinking about Dean in such a disrespectful way. Well… Almost.

When the ring was finally sitting on Sam’s finger securely, Dean’s voice got to normal again as he continued:

“I swear that if you ever scare the crap outta me like you did the last time, I’ll dope you with the pieces of my part of the soul and let you explode.”

“It’s more like being burned alive,” Castiel added his two cents, and when Sam gave him one of his darkest glares, he winced, and in order to save the situation he added: “But maybe it’ll be different in your case…”

Sam didn’t know whether he should laugh or cry. This wedding was an epic fail…

“It’s your turn, chick,” Dean said, giving Sam a sweet smile.

 _Time for payback,_ he thought as he reached for the other ring. When he put it on Dean’s finger, he looked deep into his brother’s eyes, taking a deep breath.

“I love you, Dean,” he said and watched with satisfaction as Dean’s cheeks colored. “I’ve been in love with you much longer than you know and I will always love you.”

Dean lowered his head to hide the obvious blush. It was so easy to make him feel embarrassed. Sam grinned inwardly. It wasn’t that he didn’t mean his words – every single syllable was true – but he knew Dean too well to know what an effect such an open formulation of his feelings would have on his big brother.

“Sap,” Dean muttered, kicking into the dirt under his feet.

“Very well,” Castiel’s voice echoed in the empty space of the church. “We can proceed to the last stage now…”

“And that is?” Dean’s head shot upwards as he looked at Castiel, and the knowledge was already glistening in his eyes.

“The kiss,” the angel said simply, ignoring Dean’s horrified expression.

“The hell!”

“Dean, why do you think freshly wedded couples kiss on their wedding?”

“I don’t know. Because the guests want to jerk off and need a stimulus?”

Okay, time for a facepalm…

“Dean, the kiss is necessary to seal the bond.”

“I’m not kissing Sam in front of you.”

“Dean, everyone in Heaven knows about you two. There were angels who bet on how long it would take until you realized the feelings for each other…”

“The fuck? Are you guys up there crazy or just bored?”

“You’re talking about my brothers…”

“I guess that explains everything,” Dean growled and looked at Sam, who really had no idea whether he should feel offended or not.

“Kiss him, Dean,” the angel said before Sam could say anything. Okay, he didn’t even know what to say, so the few minutes of awkward silence while Sam and Dean were just staring into each others eyes and Castiel was waiting for them to finally kiss and ‘seal the bond’ couldn’t really be considered to be a lack of time for any response. Never mind…

“Go away,” Dean glared at the angel.

Castiel sighed and disappeared with the soft rustle of his wings.

“Dean?”

Dean was staring for a while at the place where Castiel was standing just a minute ago as though he wanted to make sure he and Sam were finally alone.

“Why did you send him away?”

Dean turned to Sam slowly, embarrassment written in his face. “I didn’t want him to watch,” he admitted quietly.

“Why not?”

“Dammit, Sam, it would be like kissing in front of a brother.”

“Um… Dean…” Sam started hesitantly. “You are going to kiss your brother…”

“No,” Dean said and looked at Sam. “I’m going to kiss my husband.”

Sam wriggled his eyebrows. “Are you sure you wanna kiss me?”

“Dummy,” Dean said as he leaned to Sam and traced his lips with the tip of his tongue before he let it slip into Sam’s mouth.

The kiss was soft and sweet, so different from the ones they usually shared in the heat of passion after hunts when they needed to feel that they were still alive and together. This kiss was full of love and devotion, so untypical for Dean and so very much Dean-like at the same time. Sam was already losing his mind, returning the kiss with need. He needed to feel Dean under him, needed to have him, to touch, to kiss, to listen to his excited moans… he needed to be as close to him as he could.

“Dean…” he whispered when their mouths parted.

“Sammy…”

“Need you…”

“I know… Do you think…”

“The soulmate thing?”

“Yeah…”

“Probably.”

“Fuck…”

“Are we gonna?”

Dean groaned. “I meant…”

“I know… But I…”

“Me too…”

Sam’s lips touched Dean’s again, but his brother – or husband if Sam wanted to be precise – pushed him away gently before Sam had a chance to change the kiss into something extremely passionate and extremely needy.

“Later, Sammy. When we get back, I promise.”

“I need right now.”

“I know…” Dean whispered regretfully and stepped out of Sam’s reach. “Cas! Bring your feathery ass back here!”

The rustle of wings, and then the angel was standing there right in front of them. He looked both of them up and down.

“Congratulations,” he said in the end. “You sealed your bond successfully. How do you feel?”

“I need…” Sam half-whined and half-sobbed. He was restless and a bit upset. He felt funnily complete and annoyingly lacking something important at the same time. He looked at Dean and he knew that his husband felt the same. They were soulmates. Two parts of one soul that wanted to be as close to each other as they could. They were looking for connection…

Dean returned the look, and Sam noticed a strange flame in his eyes. He guessed Dean could see the same flame burning inside him. Sam felt an instant urge to take off his ring and stretch out his hand toward Dean. It seemed both Dean and Castiel noticed it, because Dean winced and made a step backwards, shaking his head, while the angel stood between them.

“It’ll get better,” he promised. “It’s new, and the soul you share has to get used to the closeness of its parts.”

Sam whimpered, looking at Dean, who never stopped watching him.

“Sammy.”

“Your powers are awakening. I recommend you not to take off the rings unless the process is complete. When you start using your powers naturally without even realizing it, it’s finally safe for you to take off the rings.”

Both Sam and Dean stared at the angel.

“But you said…”

“It’s dangerous only when you try to reach for each other’s powers, which is a deliberate act. While you’re using just your own, it’s all right.”

The angel stepped aside, and Sam used the chance to minimize the distance between him and Dean immediately.

Dean smiled. “You girl,” he said, but he still took Sam’s hand. Sam whined like a puppy, but before he could lean in to kiss his husband, he felt a pull on his collar, and he found out they were back in the motel room again.

“Before I go let me give you some advice,” Castiel said, but the Winchesters didn’t seem to pay him any attention. The angel sighed. “The soul wants to be united. When you feel the urge to take off the rings and merge into one, you’d better have sex. That should help.”

It was the S-word that made Sam and Dean stop gazing at each other and finally acknowledge the angel’s presence.

“Um… I guess we will…” Dean said and his eyes met Sam’s again.

“I guess I’ll leave,” Cas replied and vanished before the Winchesters could react. It wasn’t like they even wanted to.

Once Castiel was gone, and the freshly married couple was finally left alone, the distance between them diminished into nothing.

“Dean…” Sam said, and his voice was low and full of expectation. His hands came up to touch Dean’s chest, starting their journey over the man’s body.

“Sammy…”

“I need…”

“I know. Me too.” Dean folded his arms around Sam, pulling him closer. “Need to feel you, Sammy,” he whispered, his voice deep and silky.

“Are we gonna take Cas’ advice?”

Dean chuckled. “Do you feel like taking off your ring and merge?”

“Uhm.”

“Then we should take the advice.”

“I love you, Dean,” Sam whispered as his lips touched lightly his husband’s ear.

“Bitch,” Dean replied in a gentle tone.

Sam smiled, not answering. His impatient hands started stripping Dean. Piece after piece landed on the floor. Dean let him, but once he was naked and Sam still fully clothed, he took the control. He directed Sam onto the bed and straddled him, taking a few sloppy kisses.

“Strip, bitch,” he said with a grin and released Sam.

“I thought you were going to do the job.”

Dean shook his head, a mischievous grin playing on his lips. “You started with unwrapping,” he said and leaned to Sam’s ear. “I wanna watch you getting naked,” he whispered.

Sam gasped as he felt the hot breath of his husband on the neck. He gulped. Blood started gathering in the particular parts of his body. He took off his shirt.

“Good boy,” Dean said contentedly, sprawled on the bed while watching Sam’s strip show.

Until Sam got rid of the last piece of clothing, and he wasn’t slow at all, Dean was oddly restless and fidgety.

“Here,” he shoved a tube of lubricant into Sam’s hand. “Finger me and fuck,” he said, or growled if Sam wanted to be precise, and spread his legs in obvious invitation.

Sam slicked his fingers with the lube and carefully slid one finger into Dean’s hole. Dean groaned and closed his eyes. Sam was fucking him like that for a while before he added the second finger. Dean hissed and fixed his fiery look on Sam.

“Forget the fingers. Fuck me,” he said hoarsely.

Sam stopped for a moment and gave Dean a searching look. Dean’s chest was heaving in a fast rhythm, his skin was hot and his body was trembling with impatience.

“I’m serious, Sam. Fuck me. Now.”

“Dean…”

“Do it, Sam.”

“But…”

“Do it finally!”

Sam winced. He pulled the fingers out of Dean and reached for the lube again. “No need to yell,” he said reproachfully.

Dean sighed and let his head fall onto the pillow. “Sorry.”

Sam was stroking himself for a while. His dick didn’t need much, because Sam had already been half-hard. He slicked his cock thoroughly, hoping it would ease the penetration as much as possible since Dean wasn’t stretched enough.

“What takes you so long?”

“Sorry, I’m here.”

Sam put the other pillow under Dean’s hips and got into position. He glanced at Dean, who was watching him intently and obviously didn’t miss Sam’s hesitation.

“Sam.”

“I don’t wanna hurt you, and that’s what I’m going to do right now,” Sam tried again.

“Pussy,” Dean spat. “I have my needs, and you have yours. Now fuck me or I won’t bring you breakfast into bed ever again.”

“You’ve never done that.”

“Haven’t I? Don’t you want me to try it once?”

Sam pursed his lips. “As you wish. Prepare yourself, this’ll hurt,” he snapped

Dean sighed and lifted his legs to make the access easier for Sam. “Need to feel you inside, Sammy,” he said in a soft tone.

Sam didn’t reply. He was mad at Dean. The jerk was as stubborn as a mule, and if he wanted to be fucked without any real preparation, okay then. Sam would do that. It wasn’t he who was going to suffer after all.

His cock touched Dean’s entrance and Sam pushed in, breaching the tight ring of muscles uncompromisingly. Dean groaned and hissed with pain, and for a split second Sam regretted his action.

“Fuck me,” Dean gasped, and Sam remembered why he was angry.

“Okay,” he said coldly and started moving.

“Harder,” Dean commanded.

Sam blinked. “No.”

“Fuck me hard, Sam.”

“No.”

“Fuck me hard or I’ll hurt you.”

Sam slipped out of Dean. “No.”

Dean rose on his elbows, giving Sam a furious glare. “You’ll stick your giant dick into my ass again and fuck me hard until I black out right now or you’ll live in celibacy for the rest of your life.”

Sam hesitated, giving his husband a hurt look. 

Dean’s expression softened. “Don’t pull that puppy face, it won’t help you,” he said and sat up, his face puckered with pain subsequently. Sam’s eyes widened, but Dean shook his head.

“It’s okay…”

“It’s not,” Sam argued.

“Be quiet and listen to me,” Dean raised his voice only a little. “I need it, Sam. I told you I had my needs, and right now I need you inside, damn the pain. It’s okay. Really. Because the pain makes me forget that you can’t be any closer, that this is the closest we can get. I guess it’s what Cas meant when he said our soul wanted to be united. I feel like I couldn’t get enough of you, and I need you as close as possible. Don’t tell me you don’t feel the same.”

“I do,” Sam admitted and cuddled up to Dean – something he was afraid to do any other time than after sex when Dean didn’t care much about his masculinity being violated, but now it was okay because it was a need,and Dean understood it like that. Nevertheless, Sam still felt kind of surprised when he felt Dean’s hand caressing his back lovingly.

“Will you do it for me, Sammy?” Dean asked gently, and Sam couldn’t hold his tears. He was asked to hurt Dean, because Dean needed it, and Sam was going to grant him that wish.

He nodded weakly and straitened up, not bothering to wipe the tears from his cheeks.

“Lie down,” he said, and when Dean obeyed immediately without saying a word, spreading his legs wide, Sam penetrated him roughly, making Dean whimper, while tears were still rolling down his cheeks.

Gentleness became a meaningless word. Sam was thrusting into Dean ferociously, not giving a crap about the prostate or his husband’s dark, swollen cock. If he hit Dean’s sweet spot, it was a pure accident; if his heated skin rubbed against his husband’s dick while Sam was bending over him in order to bite his neck and leave a bruise there, it wasn’t intentional either. Dean was wriggling, sighing and moaning under him, sweating and breathing fast, hissing with pain and encouraging Sam with loud cries ‘Harder!’ and ‘Yes, like that!’ until orgasm knocked the air out of both of them, and that was the moment when Sam could feel a soft brush of Dean’s part of the soul. They reached the connection. They were one being.

Sam gave a few more shallow thrusts before he slid out of Dean. He noticed a few droplets of blood falling on the sheets.

“Dean…”

Dean rolled on his stomach and closed his eyes. He looked worn out and sore. He was breathing heavily, his body was covered with sweat… and a thin strand of blood was coloring the inner side of his thighs.

Sam gave a frustrated sigh and reached between Dean’s legs to examine the damage.

Dean hissed. “Don’t touch me there,” he snarled.

Sam quickly pulled his hand back. “How do you feel?” he asked instead.

Dean’s eyes snapped open, and he glowered, but when he noticed Sam’s worried look, he sighed. “I’m fine.”

Sam touched his shoulder hesitantly, and when Dean neither growled at him nor pushed him away, he pressed his palm flat on his husband’s back and caressed him. Dean closed his eyes again. Sam bent to his shoulder and kissed it. He could feel the salty taste of sweat on his lips. He let his tongue slide slowly toward Dean’s neck, delivering a small kiss there.

“Puppy,” Dean said and smiled.

“Not bitch?” Sam asked with a grin, snuggling up to his husband’s perfect body.

Dean sniggered. “Always.”

“You’re such a romantic, Dean,” Sam chuckled.

“You can always count on me, babe,” Dean mumbled into the pillow.

Sam nuzzled his cheek. “Sleep.”

Dean mutter something that sounded very close to a ‘good idea’ and that was the last thing Sam heard from him until the evening when Dean woke up, demanding his evening meal, but unwilling to get out of bed. Sam brought him a burger and a cup of coke. He waited for Dean to finish his meal until he crawled into the bed to him again.

They spent the evening mostly cuddling and talking. Dean was still sore and unable to sit. Sam felt guilty for that, and even though he was trying to hide it, because it was obviously making Dean angry, he wasn’t very successful. After another quarrel Sam had it enough. He reached between Dean’s legs, touching the sore place. Dean yelped, but then he blinked and stared at Sam.

“What did you do?”

“What? I did nothing.”

“No, you did something,” Dean said and sat up.

Sam gaped at him. “You… you feel good?”

“I feel great. What did you do?”

“Nothing, I told you. No pain?”

“No, no pain. You must have done something.”

“I really have no idea,” Sam said, still gazing at Dean in disbelief. “I just wanted you to stop assuring me that you were okay when you obviously weren’t.”

“So you wanted to touch my hole?”

Sam blushed. “I wanted to find out how bad it was, jerk,” he muttered.

“So you touched my hole?”

“Um… sorry?”

Dean sighed. “Sam, you’re such a dumbass.”

Sam frowned. “Why? Because I care?”  

“Because you healed me and you’re not even aware of that.” Dean shrugged and got out from the bed.

Sam was staring at him, dumbstruck. “Not possible.”

“Really? How come I can sit, then?”

Sam shrugged.

Dean sighed. “Stop thinking for a while. It obviously doesn’t do you any good.” He gave Sam a brief kiss before he walked into the bathroom.

Sam got under the sheets and fell asleep before Dean even had a chance to join him in the bed again. 

When Sam woke up in the morning, he was alone. The funny thing was that he knew Dean wasn’t far, and if he went after him, he would surely find him. He got out of bed and found his clothes.

After he got dressed he attuned to the feeling of Dean’s presence, following it unerringly. The closer he was, the stronger he could feel Dean.

He found him in a small diner close to the motel. He was sitting at a table, feeding on a piece of apple pie. A paper package and two plastic cups of coffee where standing on the table in front of him. The golden wedding band on Dean’s left hand was glistening in the rays of the morning sun penetrating inside, and Sam glanced at his own finger where the same ring sat. Sam smiled for himself and entered the diner.

Without raising his head from the pie, Dean pushed the package aside toward an empty chair beside him. Sam grinned and sat down. He reached for the package, opening it and peering inside.

“Donuts? Seriously? Junk food again?”

Dean shrugged. “You don’t need to eat it.”

“But I want.” Sam reached into the package and pulled out a donut, biting into it with utmost pleasure. “I’m hungry like a wolf.”

“Don’t complain, then,” Dean said, sipping from his coffee. He glanced at Sam. “I wanted to bring you breakfast into bed. You ruined my plan,” he muttered.

Sam looked at Dean, surprised, but then his face brightened a wide smile.

“Dean?”

“Hm?”

“I love you.”

Dean stiffened and looked around the diner.

“I’ll kill you, bitch,” he growled in Sam’s direction and stood up, walking to the door with his coffee in his hand. Sam grabbed his coffee and the package with donuts and followed Dean.   

“You love me too, jerk,” he said when he caught up with his husband.

Dean shrugged indifferently. “Probably I do.”

Sam’s jaw dropped. That was the closest to ‘I love you’ he had ever heard from Dean.

Dean rolled his eyes. “Are you coming or not? I feel like having a nice morning connection with you,” he said and smiled at his husband and brother in one person. Sam grinned, understanding Dean’s hint, and it took them only a few minutes to get into their motel room…

 

 

**Soulmates**

Dean got Sam in bed and wiped away the cold sweat from his burning forehead with a wet cloth.

“Hang on, Sammy,” he said as he pulled out his phone and dialled Bobby’s number. After several rings the hunter finally picked up.

“What’s up, son?” Dean heard the familiar voice.

“It’s Sam, Bobby. We were hunting a maticore and he got stung.”

Sam groaned from the bed and doubled up in obvious pain. Dean held his breath. The worse thing than watching Sam dying was watching him dying in pain.

“Crap…” the voice in his ear swore. “How is he?”

Dean glanced at his brother, who was digging his fingers into the pillow until he ripped the pillowcase. The tearing sound was accompanied by another painful groan.

“Bad,” Dean said into the phone. “Bobby, is there a way…?” His voice trembled with helplessness.

“Give me some time, I’ll look it up,” Bobby said briskly, and Dean could hear a loud thud of something big and heavy, which he guessed was a book, fall on the big wooden desk in Bobby’s office.

“Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t give up.”

Bobby called back after two hours, which appeared to Dean like eternity. Sam was getting worse. His pain increased and Dean hoped Sam would pass out soon because he couldn’t listen to his cries anymore. It was too cruel to both of them.

“Bobby? What do you have for me?” he asked, breathless, when he picked up his phone.

“I have good news and bad news. The bad news is Sam will die in agony if you don’t help him.”

Dean sighed and ran his hand over his face. “And the good news?”

“There is an antidote.”

Dean felt a flicker of hope. “Where can I find it?”

“You can’t. You have to prepare it yourself.”

Dean’s heart sank again. “How shall I do that?”

“There is a book where you can find the recipe,” Bobby said and told Dean where he could find the book.

When Dean hung up, he took the keys from the Impala. He felt bad for leaving Sam alone in such a bad condition, but what else could he do?

“I’ll be back soon,” he promised. “I’ll find the book, and I’ll be back, Sammy, just hang on.”

The good thing was that the library was just a half-hour ride away from the motel. The bad thing was that the page with the recipe was missing. The son of a bitch was obviously cunning enough to destroy anything that could rob it of its prey. Or of the joy to watch it die in agony.

Dean called Bobby on his way back. The old hunter was quiet for a long time before he said warily:

“I’m afraid there’s only one thing you can do for him now…”

Dean wasn’t sure he wanted to hear it. He dreaded the words almost as much as he dreaded the actual deed.

“No, Bobby, I can’t.”

“Dean…”

“It’s Sam, Bobby. I… I can’t.”

There was silence again, and then:

“I know, son. Good luck.”

When he parked the Impala in front of the motel room, he already could hear Sam’s cries outside. He ran inside, finding Sam lying on the floor, writhing and trembling all over. The sight broke his heart, and Dean pulled out his gun. He aimed.

After a few moments of indecisiveness, he lowered the gun. He couldn’t do it. It was Sam, and he couldn’t kill him, even though it meant to free him from his suffering.

Dean got his brother back in bed and wiped the sweat from his forehead again.

“Sammy…”

Dean didn’t know what to do. This was the worst moment in his life. Sam was dying, and he couldn’t do anything. Not only to send him to the other side… So he prayed. He begged the Lord to help him, to have mercy with Sam and take him or to give Dean a clue what to do.

It wasn’t the Lord who answered. It was an angel.   

“Dean.”

“Cas?”

Castiel glanced at Sam’s limp body on the bed. The pain had worn him out, and even his cries subsided. He was staring at the ceiling, breathing quickly and trembling, tears rolling down his face.

Dean gave Castiel a desperate look.    

“Help him,” he begged.

“I can’t,” the angel said, looking back at Dean. “It’s your task. But I can help you.”

Dean frowned. “If you’re not going to give me the fucking recipe, get the hell out of here!”

“I’m here to save and not to kill the two of you,” the angel said in a calm tone.

“What do you mean with the two of us?”

“You’re soulmates, Dean. If Sam dies, you’ll die,” said Castiel matter-of-factly. “Some angels think you’ll be gone in a year, some give you even five years, but no matter what they say, you’ll follow Sam, and I want to make sure that you won’t trade your part of the soul again.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, but I really appreciate your concern. Now, if you know what to do, spit it out so that I could free Sam from his suffering. Please, Cas.”

“You need to mix the antidote,” Cas said.

“I know. What I don’t know is how. I don’t know what I need.”

“That part is simple,” the angel replied. “I can help you with that.”

In the next hour Castiel helped Dean to gather ingredients, and while Dean was working on the antidote, cursing when something went wrong and sighing with relief when it went good, Castiel was guarding Sam, who was a total mess.

“Dean, he needs you,” said the angel suddenly.

“Give me a minute.” Dean’s attention was totally caught by his absolutely not easy task.

“He needs you right now.” Castiel’s voice sounded sharper.

Dean lifted his head from his work and looked at Sam. Sam’s eyes were closed, his face was pale and covered with cold sweat, his breathing labored. He looked like he already reached the border between life and death.

“Sammy,” Dean breathed out and was immediately by his side. He wiped the sweat from Sam’s forehead. He didn’t realize how gentle and full of love the gesture was.

“Call him back.”

Dean looked at Castiel, perplexed.

“He’s too far already, he won’t hear anyone but you.”

Dean didn’t understand. Castiel could be really funny sometimes. But whatever the angel was saying, he was convinced he was right, so Dean listened to him.

“Sammy? Sam? Do you hear me?”

“He hears you,” Castiel said. “You’re his counterpart.”

Dean raised an eyebrow and glanced at the angel, but he let it be for now. He could ask questions later.

“Sammy, don’t go. Don’t leave me here. Come back to me.”

Castiel stepped closer and put a hand on Sam’s sweaty forehead.

“Continue. He didn’t realize it’s you calling him.”

“Sam,” Dean said and desperation crept into his voice. “Get your ass back here or I’ll kill you with my own hands.”

“Good, you caught his attention,” Castiel said. “Call him again.”

“Sammy… if you come back, I promise I’ll do anything you ask me to. I’ll even marry you if you still want that…”

Castiel winced, his hand left Sam’s forehead. “Marry Sam?”

Dean pretended he didn’t hear him. “Sammy…”

“Dean, do you want to marry Sam?” the angel asked again.

Dean took a deep breath and counted to three before he raised his head and gave Castiel a hard look. “Any problem with that?”

“No, not at all,” Castiel said. “Actually… you’ll be able to help him much more easily next time…”

“Cas? Don’t you think it’s time to explain what you’ve been babbling about the whole time?”

“It’s time to finish the antidote and give it to Sam,” Castiel said calmly and looked at Dean’s little brother. “He’s awake.”

Dean winced and looked at Sam as well. Sam’s eyes were open and fixed on Dean. He was trembling violently, and a quiet sigh escaped his lips.

Dean’s heart started beating faster. “Hold on, Sam. You’ll be okay soon.” He quickly got back to work. It took him only a few minutes to finish the antidote, but in Sam’s condition a minute meant an incredibly long time of torture. He hated seeing his brother suffering.

“Can’t you do something to ease his pain at least?” he asked Castiel.

“I can’t.”

Dean sighed. “Helpful as ever…” He knew he was unfair, but he didn’t give a shit. Castiel didn’t try to complain, either. He was quiet, giving Dean the space to finish the antidote and then help Sam to sit up and drink it. It was a tough procedure. Every touch and every move obviously caused Sam new pain, but his brother fought it bravely. He drank the antidote obediently although he was choking on it after every draught, and when the antidote was gone and Sam collapsed in Dean’s arms, totally exhausted but finally relaxed, Dean knew they won. Sam was not going to die. Not today. He gave a sigh of relief, and never letting go of Sam, he lay down and fell asleep.

When he woke up after a few hours, Castiel was still there. The angel even took care of food and drinks, so while Dean was eating and Sam still sleeping and healing, the angel told Dean about soulmates. And that was a hell of a talk!

 

 

**The Pleasures of Sex Life**

 

  No matter how much Dean liked his brother and currently also his husband, he still felt like killing him sometimes. He had never thought that the most embarrassing moment of his life would be connected to an evident hard-on in a grocery store, an old lady, who noticed it, and the urge to fuck someone… or to be fucked by specific someone.

“You’ll pay for this, Sam,” Dean growled for himself, leaving his purchase where it was, and hurried out from the store. His excitement was gradually growing and his cock was hardening more and more. It was a good thing that the store was just a few minutes of walk from the motel, but walking outside with such an erection in his pants without any chance to lay his hand on it until he got inside (well, this thing was OBVIOUSLY doing someone else on his OWN cock) was a true torture.

Dean burst into the room, slamming the door behind his back. Sam was nowhere to be seen, but Dean really didn’t need to be a psychic to know his husband was in the bathroom, taking a shower, because Dean could hear the sound of running water.

He walked to the bathroom door and yanked it open.

“You moron!” he yelled. “Couldn’t you wait until I got back?”

Sam winced and turned his head to Dean, staring at him, dumbstruck. “Huh?” His hand was curled around his beautifully swollen cock. If Dean hadn’t been so angry, he would have appreciated the look at that perfect, muscular body slick with water. But… FUCK! He was hard and still hungry thanks to Sam!

He took off his clothes quickly and got into the shower as well.

“What are you…?”

“On your knees, bitch, you owe me that.”

Sam didn’t seem to understand it more than a while ago. He glanced at Dean’s hard-on and he started kneeling hesitantly, taking Dean’s cock into his hand.

Dean sighed. “You still don’t get it, right?”

“Um… no?” Sam offered, giving Dean the puppy look number five: innocent and totally clueless.

“Have you never wondered why we always reach climax together?” Dean said and noticed sudden realization in Sam’s eyes.

“Oh!”

“Yeah.”

Sam gave Dean a dirty smile and sucked on the tip of Dean’s cock. Dean moaned. _Finally…_

He closed his eyes and reached to his nipples while the other hand curled in Sam’s wet hair. He felt Sam’s tongue sliding slowly – teasingly – up and down his length before he took Dean’s dick into his mouth.

“Yeah, Sam, like that…” Dean purred with pleasure, and his hips started rocking, his cock fucking Sam’s mouth in a slow pace. Sam allowed that, but not for long. After a while he put his hands on Dean’s hips, holding him still, and sucked.

Dean moaned. “Yeah, Sammy, suck me hard…”

And Sam did.

Dean came into Sam’s mouth with a loud cry when he suddenly heard choking sounds. He looked down at coughing Sam.

“Hey, you okay?”

“I’m fine. Just some water got into my nose while I was coming,” Sam said and got up to his feet again.

“You sure it wasn’t because of me having my cock down your throat?”

Sam shrugged. “Do you feel guilty?”

Dean frowned. “More like concerned. Are you going to choke on my seed every time you blow me just because you can’t hold back your own orgasm? Because that would be bad.”

Sam shrugged again. “I don’t mind blowing you and coming together with you while doing that.”

Dean gave Sam a searching look. “I can hear ‘but’…”

Sam grinned and before Dean could protest, he gave him a deep, suffocating kiss.    

“Yuck,” Dean said disgusted when Sam pulled away.

Sam sniggered. “Exactly.

“Next time warn me before you jump me like that.”

“Why? It’s fun.”

“You think you taste better?” Dean asked, frowning.

“Absolutely,” Sam replied with a broad grin, but before Dean could show him how very wrong he was, they were out of hot water, and if they didn’t want to freeze under the shower, they better got out.

They both were hungry, so they started their hunt for breakfast at first. Most of the day they spent outside, but evening belonged to the “connection” as they used to call sex now. After the orgasm washed over both of them, they snuggled to each other and fell asleep soon.

Dean loved Sam. He really did, even though he wasn’t able to put it into words. Sam didn’t press on him, and Dean was grateful for that. The last person to whom he said that was their mom, who died shortly after that. But not even love and passion could hold Dean to have his revenge for the embarrassing moment in the grocery store from the previous day. _Ha! Just wait, Sammy!_

 When he woke up in the morning, Sam was still sleeping. Dean watched his face for a while (yeah, even a guy like Dean had his chick flick moments sometimes) before he sneaked out from the bed and walked into the bathroom. Yay, revenge was sweet. Literally.

He needed only a few pulls to wake up his cock. He was jerking off in the shower, fantasizing about Sam coming into the bathroom and taking him, or taking him in the bed, it didn’t really matter. He reached the climax with Sam’s name on his lips whispered in a low voice as the spurts of come stained his hand.

He barely washed the pearly white droplets from his hand when the door opened, and one very pissed and very wet Sam was standing there.

“Wow, Sammy, a wet dream? I thought you already grew up from something like that,” Dean said as his look slid to Sam’s boxers.

“You jerk, you did it on purpose.”

Dean smiled sweetly and turned off the water. He reached for a towel and wrapped it around his hips.

“You were sleeping. I didn’t want to wake you up… and… you know… morning wood…”

He came to Sam and pecked the corner of his mouth.   

“Bathroom is yours. I’m gonna get us some food.” He winked and walked into the room, looking for his clothes. Sam looked like he wanted to retort something, but then he changed his mind. He shook his head and slammed the door behind him as he disappeared in the bathroom. Dean chuckled and after he got dressed he left the room.

When he came back, Sam scowled at him, but after having breakfast his mood improved again.

“So… what’s the plan for today?” Sam asked after he chomped on the last bit of his burger.

Dean shrugged. “I thought we could go to the coast and finally enjoy our honeymoon,” he said indifferently, but in reality his heart was pounding like mad, and he felt heat in his cheeks. This wasn’t his style… not at all. It was Sam’s fault that he was turning into an infatuated fool. But… on the other hand… judging from the beam that spread over Sam’s face, he supposed he said the right thing. He wanted Sam to be happy, and if a few days off with rose petals in bed, strawberries in champagne, and walks on the beach were what Sam wanted, Dean wanted it too.

“Dean?”

“Hm?”

“I love you,” Sam’s voice sounded close to his ear, sending sparks of desire down Dean’s spine. His lips brushed Sam’s cheek.

“You know that I do you, too, right?” he whispered.

He still couldn’t say the L-word, but he was working on it, and he was sure that one day he would be able to say it without feeling guilty or embarrassed. He loved Sam, and he wanted to see his smile as often as he could. And since his words were still betraying him, he hoped that at least his deeds were eloquent enough.

Dean could hardly remember when he saw Sam so happy for the last time, and the warmth he felt spreading through his body when he saw that sparkle of joy in his husband’s eyes was something totally worth making a fool of himself.

“Hmm… why don’t we set on the journey only tomorrow and devote this day to some other pleasant activities?” he suggested in a deep voice that he knew wouldn’t leave Sam cold.

Sam got the innuendo and he grinned. “You mean having sex all day long?”

“Aw, Sammy, always so direct,” Dean said and kissed Sam. “Now off to bed, pretty boy. I want to feel your paws all over me.”

A few minutes later loud, excited moans and the smell of sex and sweat filled the small motel room.


End file.
